Contents

  Title Page (Paperback - 1)

  By Nicole Edwards

  Title Page (eBook)

  Copyright

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  More to come

  Acknowledgments

  About Nicole Edwards

  Connect with Nicole

  Nicole Edwards on Amazon

  PRIMAL

  INSTINCTS

  Volume 3

  BY NICOLE EDWARDS

  THE WALKERS

  ALLURING INDULGENCE

  Kaleb

  Zane

  Travis

  Holidays with The Walker Brothers

  Ethan

  Braydon

  Sawyer

  Brendon

  THE WALKERS OF COYOTE RIDGE

  Curtis

  Jared

  Hard to Hold

  Hard to Handle

  Beau

  Rex

  A Coyote Ridge Christmas

  Mack

  Kaden & Keegan

  Alibi (a crossover novel)

  Trey

  BRANTLEY WALKER: OFF THE BOOKS

  All In

  Without A Trace

  Hide & Seek

  Deadly Coincidence

  Alibi

  Secrets

  Confessions

  Bounty

  AUSTIN ARROWS

  Rush

  Kaufman

  CLUB DESTINY

  Conviction

  Temptation

  Addicted

  Seduction

  Infatuation

  Captivated

  Devotion

  Perception

  Entrusted

  Adored

  Distraction

  Forevermore

  DEAD HEAT RANCH

  Boots Optional

  Betting on Grace

  Overnight Love

  Jared (a crossover novel)

  DEVIL’S BEND

  Chasing Dreams

  Vanishing Dreams

  MISPLACED HALOS

  Protected in Darkness

  Salvation in Darkness

  Bound in Darkness

  OFFICE INTRIGUE

  Office Intrigue

  Intrigued Out of The Office

  Their Rebellious Submissive

  Their Famous Dominant

  Their Ruthless Sadist

  Their Naughty Student

  Their Fairy Princess

  Owned

  PIER 70

  Reckless

  Fearless

  Speechless

  Harmless

  Clueless

  PRIMAL INSTINCTS

  Vol 1 - 3

  SNIPER 1 SECURITY

  Wait for Morning

  Never Say Never

  Tomorrow’s Too Late

  SOUTHERN BOY MAFIA/DEVIL’S PLAYGROUND

  Beautifully Brutal

  Without Regret

  Beautifully Loyal

  Without Restraint

  STANDALONE NOVELS

  Unhinged Trilogy

  A Million Tiny Pieces

  Inked on Paper

  Bad Reputation

  Bad Business

  Filthy Hot Billionaire

  NAUGHTY HOLIDAY EDITIONS

  2015

  2016

  2021

  PRIMAL

  INSTINCTS

  Volume 3

  NICOLE

  EDWARDS

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locals is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2023 by Nicole Edwards Limited

  This is a self-published title.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. For information, contact Nicole Edwards Limited, PO Box 1086, Pflugerville, TX 78660

  Nicole Edwards Limited, Nicole Edwards Limited logo, Because Naughty can be oh so Nice, and the series title are registered trademarks of SL Independent Publishing, LLC.

  PRIMAL INSTINCTS

  Volume 3

  NICOLE EDWARDS

  COVER DETAILS:

  Image: © Emmanma (169302591) | 123rf.com Design: © Nicole Edwards Limited

  INTERIOR DETAILS:

  Formatting: Nicole Edwards Limited

  AUDIO DETAILS:

  Image: © Emmanma (169302591) | 123rf.com Narrators: TBD

  ISBN: (ebook) 978-1-64418-069-3 | (paperback) 978-1-64418-070-9

  BISAC: FICTION / LGBTQ

  1

  Saturday…

  Journey Zeplyn

  — We have a proposition for you.

  That was what woke me up on this fine Saturday morning.

  As I lay there, I stared at the text message on my phone. I had already read it at least three dozen times since it came through thirty minutes ago. If you’re doing the math, then you know that’s roughly one and a quarter times per minute.

  I wish I could say I was offended by the text message. Or that I hadn’t felt a shimmer of energy firing between my legs when I first read it. But I wasn’t offended, and I did. Not only the first time but every time after as well.

  Not to say that either of those reactions was normal. I figured it was safe to say we were past normal at this point. At least I was. Normal hopped on a bus to Idaho as soon as I decided to date Jacob Hawkins, Garrison Walker, and Creed Granger. Or rather, I decided I would not give any of them up because one of them wanted me to. Which meant I was currently in a relationship—for lack of a better word—with three different men. One of which had stolen my heart from the very beginning, one I’d had sex with, and another I’d been intimate with.

  On top of that, Wayne the Fucker had planted a hidden camera in my office and was now blackmailing me with a video of me changing my shirt in my office while Garrison watched. He had made his first demand on Thursday, insisting I give up the Reflect project so he could take it. At the moment, he held all the cards, so I was biding my time, hoping for something that might make that nightmare disappear. Fortunately, I had the weekend and, hopefully, some distractions to keep me from dwelling on it too much.

  I figured a proposition from a ridiculously hot man was an excellent way to keep the brain occupied. But how did one respond to a message like that? Was there some sort of etiquette expected? This had never happened to me before.

  Since I hadn’t received any messages since that one, I could only assume Creed was expecting me to respond before elaborating. Did I even want to know, or would a simple okay suffice?

  I stared at my phone for another few minutes before my curiosity finally got the best of me.

  — What does that even mean?

  — It means I’ll be there in twenty. We’re going to the gym, so dress accordingly.

  Twenty minutes? Clearly, Creed wasn’t used to giving women time to get ready.

  I smiled, acknowledging it as a challenge. Since I wasn’t like most women, I decided I would be ready. Even if it killed me.

  — I’ll be ready and waiting.

  Launching myself out of bed, I raced for the bathroom. It wasn’t until I took my first few steps that I noticed the soreness at the apex of my thighs. Memories flashed in my head as I recalled how incredibly hot it had been when Creed fingered me in his car last night. I’d written numerous fantasies about rough encounters, but I never imagined how much it would turn me on. Something in his dominant actions called to me on a deeper level. I’d been so turned on by it I would’ve given him anything at all.

  I could still hear his words echoing in my head.

  I take what I want when I want, and you … you’ll give it to me because you need it, too, little cat. You’ll crave what only I can give you. It’s an addiction, a need so potent you won’t understand it, but once you experience it, it’ll call out to you.

  A chill washed through me as I stepped into the bathroom. He was right, but how could he possibly know that? This connection I had to him … it was potent and addictive even if I didn’t understand it. Of course, I think Creed had been trying to scare me when he whispered those words, but the only thing he succeeded in doing was to make me want him more.

  “Oh, girl, you’re in so much trouble.” I giggled at my reflection in the mirror. “So much trouble.”

  After Creed kissed me good night on my parents’ front porch, I figured we wouldn’t see each other until work on Monday—maybe. I didn’t expect to hear from him today or even tomorrow. Considering it had taken him two weeks to ask me on a date, I didn’t think he was interested in moving things along at a pace faster than a snail’s. Add to it that I told him I wasn’t willing to stop seeing Hawk or Garrison, and I didn’t know what to expect.

  So this was a bonus.

  Since we were going to a gym, I decided to go the casual ro ute. I had taken a shower last night, so it didn’t take long to pull my hair back in a ponytail and put on a white sports bra and black yoga pants. I topped it off with a black zip-up hoodie and my favorite neon-colored tennis shoes. I didn’t bother with makeup because my mother taught me that everyone should be comfortable with a naked face. According to her, inner beauty was far more important than anything else. She was a smart lady, so I tended to lean on my mother’s advice. Since there was a chance I’d get sweaty—it was a gym, right?—I figured this was a chance for that inner beauty to shine.

  Trust me when I say it wasn’t as effortless as I made it appear. I didn’t believe my parents when they told me I was the prettiest girl in the world. I knew better. They were biased. I was sure I’d say the same to my children if I ever got to the point where I might want kids. I hadn’t yet felt that overpowering yearning for motherhood I’d heard some women got when they were old enough to envision their future. I’d considered getting a dog one day, but nothing past that point. Who knows, maybe it would change, maybe it wouldn’t.

  As for my beauty, both inner and outer, it wasn’t that I didn’t have days when I wished I had longer legs, stronger cheekbones, whiter teeth, or bigger breasts. Although I had learned to play to my assets as I got older, I’d been picked on as a kid. For starters, I was five feet tall. There were no inches to add to that because, honestly, that was rounding up. I was also skinny and flat-chested—the sort of skinny that wasn’t self-induced but rather resulted from a very high metabolism. When I was a kid, my mother had to manage my diet appropriately to ensure I was getting enough calories. And yes, some might say it was a blessing, but I would disagree. Would you if you had to buy your clothes in the kid’s section when you were in high school?

  As for being flat-chested … well, I could’ve had them surgically altered, but I didn’t. Instead, I embraced the fact that self-doubts and desires for the minor tweaks that would make us feel better came naturally. I had a good self-image, and I figured that was in large part to the fact my mother had always told me that beauty didn’t have to do with the shape of your nose, the color of your eyes, or the size of your boobs. It had to do with the energy from your life force, and the more you loved yourself, the more others could love you, too. So I’d let that be my mantra, and it had worked for me so far.

  Admittedly, it was something I forgot to embrace this past week when I was dealing with Wayne. But now that the initial shock had worn off, I’d vowed to remind myself of that often. Even if he could manipulate me into giving him the project, he didn’t get to dictate how I felt about myself.

  I exhaled heavily, then took a slow, deep breath to clear my thoughts. I would not let Wayne intrude on my personal time.

  I repeated that in my head a few times as I grabbed my phone and headed downstairs. I went to the kitchen and snagged an energy drink from the refrigerator. Before I could even pop the top, my cell phone rang.

  “Ms. Zeplyn, this is Frank at the main gate. There’s a Mr. Creed Granger requesting entrance.”

  “Yes, please let him through,” I said with a smile. “Add him to the list of approved visitors if you don’t mind.”

  There was a brief pause, followed by, “He’s already on the list, Miss.”

  I frowned. “How’s that possible?”

  Another pause, then, “Oh, sorry. Yes. I’ll get him added.”

  The call disconnected, and my belly began to churn with excitement. Although my parents’ neighborhood was vast, it’d only take him three minutes to wind his way up from the main gate. I had timed it once.

  Since I was in a rush, I went to the electronic panel on the wall and pressed the button to open the gate at the driveway rather than use the app on my phone. Once that was done, I hurried to get the cats their breakfast while I practically vibrated with anticipation.

  “I’ve got a date,” I told Cinnamon, Truffle, and Snowflake as I chopped up the mess so they’d find it more pleasing to their palate. “With a hot guy.” I grinned. “Maybe more than one. Creed did say, ‘we have a proposition for you’. Not that I know what that means.” I giggled, effectively cutting off my rambling.

  The cats weren’t listening to a single word, their full attention on their food.

  I popped the top on my energy drink a second before the doorbell rang.

  I had to make a conscious effort not to skip to the front door. My excitement was palpable. The idea of spending the morning with Creed was nearly too much for my heart to take.

  I took a deep breath and composed myself before opening the door.

  There in all his masculine glory was Creed. He was dressed in a pair of black Nike’s, black athletic pants, and a dark gray hoodie. He looked like he had stepped out of a Rocky movie. But the mirrored Ray-Bans covering his eyes were what made my breath catch. The man was sin on a stick.

  “Morning, hellcat,” he said, pulling the glasses off and smiling down at me, his smoky gaze running from my head to my toes and then back up.

  “Good morning,” I said, feeling the approving scrutiny like a physical caress over my skin.

  A wicked grin formed on his mouth, and I realized it was because I was staring at his lips, wishing he would kiss me again.

  The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Sleep well?”

  “Not really.”

  “Me, neither. Ready to go?”

  What I was ready to do was grab his hand and drag him upstairs. Ever since he had dropped me off last night, I’d replayed our encounter in his car again and again, composing my fantasies over reality. Oh, sure, I enjoyed the wicked exploration of his fingers and the mind-numbing orgasm he’d caused, but I was learning that common sense failed me and greed took over when it came to him. I wanted more. A lot more. Even when I found myself angry at him.

  All in due time, I told myself at the same time I told him, “Definitely.”

  I joined Creed on the front porch, pulled the door closed, and then pressed three fingers to the screen to engage the electronic lock. As I turned to go, I slid my phone into my jacket pocket. A second later, Creed took my hand as he guided me down the wide front porch steps, leading the way to his car, which was parked behind mine in the circular drive. I stared at my RAV4 for a moment, wondering when it had been dropped off, but more importantly, how they had gotten it passed the security gate without triggering a phone call. And where was the key?

  “In the wheel well,” Creed informed me.

  I peered up, unable to hide my shock.

  “You were looking at it,” he said with a shrug. “I had someone bring it here last night. They tipped one of the security guards a hundred dollars to drive it up. Told them to leave the key.”

  He really was a mind reader. “How’d they get past the private gate?”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Button in your car?”

  Ah. Right.

  I was processing all that when Creed twined his big, warm fingers with mine and kept walking. I was so focused on how much I liked the fact that he was so big and powerful—something noticeable as his large fingers forced mine apart—that I didn’t notice the make and model of his car.

  Not at first.

  When I did, I jerked to a stop, sloshing my energy drink.

  “Holy mother of dragons,” I said in awe. “That’s not the car you drove last night.”

  “Thought you’d appreciate the speed.”

  My mouth hung open as I admired the Lamborghini Huracán Spyder. “Verde Selvans,” I remarked, referring to the four-layer green color. It was probably my favorite of all the colors because it stood out.

  “You know your Lambo colors.”

  “I might be a little fascinated by them,” I admitted.

  I studied the bold lines of the sleek sports car, feeling another rush twisting my insides. I grinned at Creed, giddy with the idea of riding in this car. And to think, I’d been impressed with the Audi S8 he drove us in last night.

  “Holy shit,” I muttered as he tugged on my hand and dragged me around to the passenger side.

  He opened the door and motioned me inside.

  “Wait.” I turned to him and held out my drink. “I probably shouldn’t take this.”

  “It’s a car, Journey, not a priceless antique. You can’t do any damage that can’t be undone.”

  He didn’t know me all that well yet, clearly.

  But who was I to argue?

 

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